e for several successive days, tending, generally, to
the west. The soil was light and sandy; the country much diversified.
Frequently the plains were studded with isolated blocks of rock,
sometimes in the shape of a half globe, and from three to four hundred
feet high. These singular masses had occasionally a very imposing, and
even sublime appearance, rising from the midst of a savage and lonely
landscape.

As the travellers continued to advance, they became more and more
sensible of the elevation of the country. The hills around were more
generally capped with snow. The men complained of cramps and colics,
sore lips and mouths, and violent headaches. The wood-work of the wagons
also shrank so much that it was with difficulty the wheels were kept
from falling to pieces. The country bordering upon the river was
frequently gashed with deep ravines, or traversed by high bluffs, to
avoid which, the travellers were obliged to make wide circuits through
the plains. In the course of these, they came upon immense herds of
buffalo, which kept scouring off in the van, like a retreating army.

Among the motley retainers of the camp was Tom Cain, a raw Irishman, who
officiated as cook, whose various blunders and expedients in his novel
situation, and in the wild scenes and wild kind of life into which he
had suddenly been thrown, had made him a kind of butt or droll of
the camp. Tom, however, began to discover an ambition superior to his
station; and the conversation of the hunters, and their stories of their
exploits, inspired him with a desire to elevate himself to the dignity
of their order. The buffalo in such immense droves presented a tempting
opportunity for making his first essay. He rode, in the line of march,
all prepared for action: his powder-flask and shot-pouch knowingly slung
at the pommel of his saddle, to be at hand; his rifle balanced on his
shoulder. While in this plight, a troop of Buffalo came trotting by in
great alarm. In an instant, Tom sprang from his horse and gave chase on
foot. Finding they were leaving him behind, he levelled his rifle and
pulled [the] trigger. His shot produced no other effect than to increase
the speed of the buffalo, and to frighten his own horse, who took to his
heels, and scampered off with all the ammunition. Tom scampered after
him, hallooing with might and main, and the wild horse and wild Irishman
soon disappeared among the ravines of the prairie. Captain Bonneville,
who was